


Obligations

by Vivian Moon (vivian_moon)



Category: Fantastic Four (Comicverse)
Genre: Community: marvelkink-v2, M/M, Sex Slave
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-26
Updated: 2014-04-26
Packaged: 2018-01-20 22:22:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1527806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vivian_moon/pseuds/Vivian%20Moon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For the prompt: "Somehow Johnny gets stuck in the role of Dooms' concubini (male lover) and isn't happy about it. Doom wants to make certain Johnny not only does his duty but enjoys it. Johnny being stubborn and Doom setting about to win the battle of wills in the game of seduction." Although it wandered a bit from that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Obligations

**Author's Note:**

> So I noticed the old marvelkink-v2 LJ community got deleted at some point and I should probably get round to archiving the rest of my old kink meme fills like I started, uh, a year ago. #WorldsMostEfficientArchivist

His quarters in Castle Doom were actually quite nice. There were no bars on the windows or locks on the doors, and the furniture was made for royalty. Under other circumstances, the four-poster bed and king-sized bath would promise kinky fun. Now, the sight of both made Johnny cringe.

The worst part about this situation was that it was all his own fault. Turns out it's a bad thing to get it on with the acolytes of a sex demon, even if there _are_ three of them and they're all super hot. The part where they'd ritually bound him to be the consort of a Lord of Hell had really kind of ruined the mood.

With Doctor Strange missing in action, he'd been forced to suck it up and go to Doom for help. Who _had_ , to be fair, gotten Johnny out of the magical contract. By transferring the demon's end of it himself.

A year and a day as a sex slave to Doom, or else suffer eternal damnation. He could only hope like hell that Strange would show up soon and find a way to get him out of it.

Soon like sometime in the next hour, because he was contractually obliged to 'please' Doom once a day, and it was getting way too close to midnight.

"Should have taken my chances with the demon," Johnny muttered.

A mocking chuckle from the door behind him made him jump. "If you wish to revert to the original terms of the contract, I will gladly restore them," Doom said. "I am sure you will make an excellent host for Tlithshogga's flesh-eating spawn."

Oh, yeah. The spawn. Suddenly he was remembering why a year of banging Doom had seemed like the better option.

Which was a long way from it being a _good_ option.

Johnny spun to say something scathing and witty, and faltered as he saw what Doom was wearing - or _not_ wearing - which was basically his face mask and a towel. Green, naturally, and slung low on his hips. His skin glistened with moisture where he'd clearly stepped out of a shower.

The last thing Johnny wanted was to be caught staring, but damn. For someone who usually kept his body well hidden, Doom was in amazingly good shape. He had muscles that would put a few pro-wrestlers to shame. Johnny would have expected him to be pale - where the hell would he work on his tan? - but he had an olive complexion that disguised the lack of sun and a dusting of dark chest hair to go with it.

He looked good. For a sociopathic evil dictator who owned Johnny's ass in a disturbingly literal way. Johnny snapped his jaw shut and tried to project casual indifference. "Let me guess. Suit's at the dry cleaners'?"

Doom stepped in and shut the door behind him, and Johnny couldn't help but back up, swallowing as he hit the unyielding stone wall. He could see the smirk behind Doom's mask. "Dissemble as you will," Doom said. "It will not change your... responsibilities."

He reached out to cup Johnny's cheek. Johnny flinched, but the big hand was surprisingly gentle, thumb tracing the side of his mouth.

"Hey!" he said warily, his heart starting to flutter in his chest. Doom's hand slid slowly but smoothly down his neck, under the shoulder of his costume... and then tightened.

"Kneel," he said, in his most commanding voice. And normally that would spark off mocking defiance, but right now Johnny's legs were feeling more than a little bit shaky. As Doom's eyes narrowed warningly and the pressure of his grip increased, Johnny thudded to his knees on the stone floor.

Leaving him a choice of cricking his neck to look up like a supplicant... or staring Doom directly in the... towel. Johnny swallowed and looked up.

Doom was tall. Very tall. Somehow it was more obvious out of the armour, the build and stature more impressive when it was pure human muscle. His hand withdrew from under the shoulder of Johnny's costume, sliding out in a gentle caress across his collarbone that made him shiver.

"You will find," Doom said, his fingertips lightly stroking Johnny's hair, "that I can be a good master - _if_ I am obeyed." Without warning, his fingers tightened in Johnny's hair and twisted cruelly, and Johnny gasped in pain. "Resist me, and you _will_ suffer the consequences."

He stepped back, the steely anger slipping back into a smirk. "It is your choice what form of treatment you receive." He swept the towel aside, and let it fall.

Johnny's mouth went dry. Whatever other explanation you gave for Doom's ego issues, he _definitely_ wasn't compensating for anything.

So now Johnny had a choice. Make it easy on himself by obeying Doom's orders... or fight him every step of the way, and find out exactly how rough he could get. It would be no decision at all if it was just now, just tonight - but he could be in this for a year and a day. Fighting with all his strength now was only setting himself up for a greater humiliation when Doom eventually broke his will.

On the other hand, if he gave in right now, and Strange showed up to rescue him tomorrow...

"Attend me," Doom said imperiously, and Johnny's dick gave a traitorous twitch.

_No_. This was not hot. He was not finding this hot. Unfortunately, his downstairs brain wasn't getting the memo. And with the growing threat of Doom noticing the bulge in his pants, it was suddenly a whole lot easier to swallow his pride.

And Doom's cock.

He almost gagged trying to take the length of it. He'd done this before, fooling round as a kid, but with other teenage boys, no one nearly as big as Doom. Doom was pushing forward, slowly but inexorably, and it was too much, too much, he was gonna- He made a strangled sound of protest, and Doom pulled back just a little, just enough that he was able to breathe. Beyond the flavours of sex and skin, Doom tasted like metal, and Johnny wondered if he went commando under his armour-

-Wondered why the _hell_ his dick thought that was sexy and not stupid and creepy-

Doom pulled back a little more, and suddenly Johnny was able to focus on the novelty of having an uncircumcised cock in his mouth. Never one to miss a chance to try out new sexual experiences, he made an experimental little swirl with his tongue...

Doom _growled_ and grabbed his hair, and Johnny thought for sure that he was going to get that monster of a cock rammed hard down his throat... until Doom's hands deliberately relaxed, slipping down the sides of his face to frame his jaw. He began to fuck Johnny's mouth so slowly and gently that it would have dropped open further if there had been anywhere further to go. The amount of self- _control_...

Of course, since he wouldn't be Johnny Storm if he wasn't an impulsive idiot who played with fire, his instinctive response was immediately to try and break it.

As Doom kept thrusting into his mouth with near maddening slowness, Johnny worked his tongue, hollowed his cheeks, tried every dirty porno trick he'd ever had used on him to get Doom to break and lose control. His dick throbbed hot and heavy between his legs as the world narrowed to only the battle of wills; he closed his eyes, his head growing hazy, all sense of the passage of time disappearing as he focused everything on his determination to _force... Doom... to..._

And then Doom's hips _finally_ jerked, slamming forward, but any triumphant sound was drowned by the choking gush of salty fluid down his throat; Johnny gagged and spluttered, trying to cough it out as Doom withdrew, but Doom seized hold of his jaw and forced his head back so he had no choice but to swallow.

(And it was wrong, so very wrong, that being forced to do that sent a turned-on pulse down through his dick.)

Doom released him, and he sagged forward, panting, still achingly hard, and suddenly ashamed. What the hell had he just _done_? Not just met his obligations, but charged full-speed at them with every bit of sexual talent at his disposal.

He couldn't look up as Doom stroked a hand through his sweaty hair, as if he was some kind of pet. "As you see," Doom said, with seductive softness, "please me well... and I will be a kind master indeed."

He turned and strode off with no further word, apparently untroubled by his nakedness. Johnny heard the door thump closed behind him.

He lasted out all of thirty seconds before he tore his pants off, grabbed the discarded towel, and jerked off into it with a sob of relief.

He refused to think about the fact that Doom almost certainly had cameras watching him in this room.

One day down. Only three hundred and sixty-five more to go.


End file.
